Episode 1: Everyman

Another day, another bout at the office.

James Jeremiah Walkman, simply known as Jim, irritably turned over and pressed the ‘off’ button on his alarm, resisting the urge to hit ‘snooze’ instead – he didn’t want a repeat of what happened last week.

“Jess! I hope you’re up!” he called. “Remember the road is closed today, so we need to take the long way around again!”

“One step ahead of you, Dad!” came the response, which caught the 37-year-old man off guard, not used to hearing his daughter so bright and chipper in the early hours of the day.

“That’s weird; she’s not usually up this early . . .” he pondered, before shrugging it off and focusing on getting ready himself.

-:-

After dropping Jess off at Hilltop Secondary School, Jim set the course for his place of work, LifeShare, a well-being company that strived to prioritise the goodwill of customers. Jim had been working there for nearly 4 years now, as the company’s market shares consultant.

An average day at work for Jim was as simple and as mundane as they come – he would wake up at 6:50 AM and shower for approximately seven minutes before drinking a full cup of Earl Grey tea accompanied by a banana to serve as his first meal of the day. Then, after dropping Jess off at school at 8:20 AM, he would drive for another half-hour to LifeShare‘s main office. After signing in at the front desk, Jim would go up to the fourth floor, where he was stationed, and greet all of his co-workers, before buckling down to work for the next 8 hours, only stopping for an hour lunch break.

It wasn’t a glamorous existence, by any means, but all Jim was concerned about was making enough money to provide for himself and his daughter, and thankfully, working at LifeShare did just that. Did he sometimes have delusions of grandeur about becoming a successful and world-renowned billionaire, retiring early and never having to work a day in his life ever again? Sure, who hasn’t? But having said delusions did nothing to put food on the table, so Jim was perfectly content with fading into the background, getting by by doing what he had to do.

Indeed, Jim Walkman was, for all intents and purposes, your average everyman.